//------------------------------// // Epilogue // Story: Beyond Achlys // by Snuffy //------------------------------// The month since Helena and her ship was last seen had gone by so fast that Twilight could hardly believe it unless she checked her calendar. The sheer amount of work it took helping restore and reassure the nation certainly made time fly. ”Twilight,” Starlight Glimmer called from inside the castle. “The girls are here, and Spike made pancakes for dinner, you coming?” “I’m coming,” she replied as she folded the telescope back into its container. She was about to go inside when she got distracted by the landscape around her. The shields encircling the cities and towns had all been removed with the final comet sighting, and thankfully there never were any reported cases of meteor impacts anywhere in Equestria. Regardless, it took the combined effort of all four princesses to convince the general public that it was safe to return to the countryside. Luckily, Twilight had good friends to help her out, and little by little, life resumed as if nothing had happened. The only remnants of alien presence were the bits and pieces that had fallen out of the spaceship, and the dozen or so artifacts retrieved from the ship. Most of the debris lay scattered around the mountains and deep lakes outside of Canterlot, and it would likely take years to recover it all. The study of the metals and pieces of scrap led to a newly found cooperation between the nations, as scientists from every land came to share their thoughts and ideas. Celestia hadn’t wasted any time in capitalizing on this newly found source of friendship. She sponsored seminars and encouraged research agreements across borders, creating an unprecedented unity between the nations. Not everything was better, though. Cults and charlatans had been quick to play on ponies' fears to further their selfish gains, and some groups even needed to be forcefully disbanded by the Royal Guard. The action was necessary to protect ponies, but military intervention added more fuel to those who saw conspiracy around every corner. In the end, Twilight never found out why Helena came to Equestria, why she skulked around at an abandoned house in Copperhill, why she claimed to have destroyed the stars when they returned only days later, or what her connection with Discord was. She'd tried asking the draconequus, but the chaos god had deftly avoided any conversations relating to Helena. There were many unanswered questions; what mystified Twilight the most was the spell Helena used in the palace garden. At first, she’d believed that it only affected those nearby, but no matter who Twilight asked, be it a local gryphon or a trader who were hundreds of leagues away when it happened, they had all felt a strange presence for a brief moment. In the newspapers, ponies described their experiences with the phenomena, and what they speculated to be the root cause. Only the princesses and a hoofful of guards knew the truth, and they had quickly decided it was for the best that it remained a secret. What Twilight knew for certain was that the sheer scope of the spell should have been impossible. She distinctly remembered Helena claiming in the library that ponies misunderstood the fundamental truth about magic. Whether that was the case or not, Twilight had searched for evidence regarding the human’s claims and could sense that she was close to a breakthrough in magical learning, one she felt might contain a truth so monumental that it might be too terrifying to comprehend. “Twilight!” Pinkie Pie yelled from somewhere inside. “Pancakes!” Twilight looked up at the stars above. Only a few years ago, she’d have dedicated her entire life to solving the mystery. Now, she knew that there were more important things in life than trying to understand something beyond your control. “I’m coming,” she called to her friends before trotting inside. Keeper walked the dimly lit and cobbled stone floor of his workplace, only stopping to admire his outfit in one of the hallway mirrors. His new dark robe with golden sleeves and intrinsic patterns on the neck and flank was glorious enough that he was obligated to strike a stoic pose. In the two-year time since the great disaster, his collection of artifacts had nearly doubled, along with his titles and salary. There was only one issue for him: the complete lack of a successor. His previous apprentice ran away after Keeper threw him headfirst into a wall, and he fired any other applicants within weeks for being bumbling buffoons. One, in particular, he needed to personally throw out for spouting that ‘the Copperhill incident was an inside job.’ He stopped admiring himself in the mirror and locked the vault door behind him. Keeper’s office and those of his minions were close by, and he opened its thick and creaking doors to find an unwanted visitor sitting in front of his desk. She was a slender beige earth pony with a bright blonde mane, and though Keeper rarely noticed things like a mare’s natural beauty, he imagined that she would look positively dazzling in a dark robe. His office seemed otherwise undisturbed as he walked up to his desk. The skull of a mountain yeti was still in its display case, the thick red carpet unblemished, and the piece of artifact on his front desk untampered. “Why are you in my office?” Keeper’s question was blunt, but without hostility, as he sat down behind his desk. He ignored her at first and pretended to read a laundry receipt as if it were highly relevant. The mare’s voice was mature and direct. “I’m here for the job.” Keeper pushed away the paper to inspect her closer. She appeared to be in her early thirties, and her determined expression showed promise. Her cutie mark, a cluster of lights surrounded by lesser lights spiraling around its center, wasn’t an astronomical symbol familiar to him, and he couldn’t fathom its meaning. In truth, she was the complete opposite of the ill-kept and often dimwitted unicorns seeking underground employment. “And what makes you believe that you’re qualified enough to handle such an important task?” He leaned back in his chair. “My order only accepts the brightest minds with a finely tuned sense of magic.” The mare raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen anyone else down here, and I can assure you my control of magic is beyond reproach.” A few years before, Keeper would have sent her away without a second thought. This was before he’d witnessed the capabilities of a rural baker. “Prove it,” he said, with little to no expectations. “Gladly,” the mare replied and reached for the artifact on the desk. Keeper stared intensely as she deftly pushed in a combination on the row of buttons on the artifact’s side. Its purpose was a mystery, and he'd been at a loss on how to start it, but now the front of the pitch black cube lit up with alien numerals. ”How did you?” he began. ”I read a few of your articles on their language,” she explained. ”I’ve always been good at deciphering the unknown. It’s how I got my cutie mark.” Keeper didn’t know what to say. Instead, he used his horn to open a compartment to the side, and levitated out a neatly folded acolyte robe. The mare let out a chuckle when he deposited it in front of her. ”When can you start?” ”Tomorrow,” she replied while moving away from the chair to put on the robe. Once she’d dragged it over herself she made a graceful whirl on her hind legs. Keeper's heart skipped a beat at the sight. ”Until then,” the mare said before moving to the door. ”W-wait,” Keeper said, fumbling with words for the first time since he’d been an adolescent. ”What’s your name?” The mare smiled back at him with the door half-open, then left.